


3:45 AM

by the_technicolor_whiscash



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Confessions of love, M/M, dont walk around at night kids, exactly what you’d expect from me, night strolls, unless you’re fictional
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 21:19:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18106673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_technicolor_whiscash/pseuds/the_technicolor_whiscash
Summary: Crowley, unable to sleep, decides to go for a walk around London. He ends up visiting the duck pond he and Aziraphale frequent, and begins thinking about his feelings towards the angel.





	3:45 AM

**Author's Note:**

> No I did not actually write this at 3:45 am I wrote this at 1:45 am which isn’t as bad however it’s still not good

Crowley tossed. And he turned. And he threw an arm over his eyes. Nothing worked. 

He checked his clock. 3:45 AM. Normally, he’d be fast asleep right now. He liked sleep. Very much so. It was one of those little human quirks he adopted and couldn’t quite shake. To be able to lay down and ignore the world for a while was something he was immensely glad for. 

But he didn’t seem to be able to sleep tonight. It was probably due to the nagging feeling he had in his stomach, though he couldn’t quite place a finger on the cause of it. It wasn’t like he was sick, demons couldn’t get sick. It was more of an emotional sort of pain, that had translated itself into a physical feeling. What emotion it was, he also had no idea. 

Clearly, this tossing and turning wasn’t going to help him get to sleep. Rolling out of bed, he grabbed his sunglasses off of the bedside table and his coat off the rack and headed out the door. 

Crowley made his way down the road, in no particular direction, letting his feet lead the way. At this hour, the city was relatively quiet. There was still the occasional honk of a car horn, or a cab speeding just a little too fast down the street, but most everyone was asleep. With so many lights off, he could almost imagine he saw stars. 

His feet led him into that familiar park, where he’d spent so many times meeting Aziraphale. It was odd, being there without the angel. Even the ducks were asleep. 

Sitting on a bench, Crowley stared at the pitch-black water. There was no moon out tonight to reflect off of the glossy surface of the pond. Nonetheless, Crowley looked up at the sky, at the milky darkness above. It wasn’t like him to be so pensive. He supposed it probably had something to do with the time. At 3:45 in the morning, if you weren’t asleep, you were either committing a crime or thinking about your life. Or both. 

The thought of Aziraphale crossed Crowley’s mind again. That damn angel. He was bewildering. He had the general requirements of an angel: kindness, goodness, the like; but he also could be far from angelic. All of that time around humans must’ve rubbed off. Then again, time around humans had definitely rubbed off on Crowley. He was a far different demon from the one who slithered onto earth six thousand years ago. For one, he had picked up sleeping. And none of that was a bad thing. 

Crowley wondered what Aziraphale would say if he were there. Probably something about how it was getting a bit nippy out, and they should retreat back somewhere inside. But in that angel brain of his, he would be thinking, pondering just how much of him had been affected by human contact. He might say something about it. He might not. It might come up in a conversation years from now, after Crowley had entirely forgotten it. 

Crowley smiled. This hypothetical conversation with Aziraphale was making Crowley miss being around him. Even though he had only just seen Aziraphale today. Well, yesterday, considering the time. He found himself missing the angel a lot when they were apart. Maybe that was the cause of the nagging feeling he had. Maybe he just missed his friend. 

Though, friend might not have been the way to put it. After six thousand years, friend hardly cuts it. Initially he might have been hesitant to even consider Aziraphale a friend, but now, the word wasn’t good enough to describe him. He was… they were… 

Crowley was at a loss for words. Frankly, he had no idea how to describe their relationship. Complicated, yes, but not in those terms. They were more than friends, yes, but they weren’t lovers...

Ah. There was that nagging again. He was coming close to pinpointing the source. It seemed to appear when he thought about Aziraphale, and when he thought about the two of them together…

It finally hit him like a slap to the face. He knew why he felt Aziraphale was more than a friend. Crowley was in love with him. 

Instantly, Crowley felt like an idiot. How had he not seen it before? All of the facts supported this, from the many times he had almost kissed the angel to the even higher number of times they had held hands. He was in love. Everything made sense. 

After a moment of thinking, Crowley stood and made his way down the street. He had memorized the way to the angel’s bookshop, and knew that Aziraphale didn’t usually sleep, so he had nothing to lose by telling the angel about it now. 

But as he knocked on Aziraphale’s door, Crowley found that he was nervous. Perhaps the angel didn’t like him back. Perhaps he felt that, since he an angel and Crowley a demon, the two couldn’t possibly have a happy relationship. He was also getting nervous because Aziraphale didn’t answer the door. 

Fortunately, it was usually unlocked, so Crowley walked inside. “Angel! You in?” He yelled, walking into the back of the store. No sign of him. Upon further examination, he noticed that Aziraphale’s favorite coat was also not on the rack. 

Damn. The time he picks to confess his love is the one time the angel decides to leave his bookshop. 

Crowley sighed. He had no idea when Aziraphale would be back, so he exited the bookshop and began his walk home. It was a shame, that he couldn’t have told Aziraphale tonight, but it could wait until the morning. Perhaps they could meet up for tea or a pastry somewhere. Make a date of it. Crowley felt himself go warm at the thought of having a proper date. Not like any of their thousands of previous meetings couldn’t be considered a date. In fact, thinking back upon the many events of their lives, a great number of their meetings would have been considered a date by anyone who had seen the two of them. Or anyone with half a brain, which Crowley did not seem to have until now. 

When Crowley reached his door, he noticed it was unlocked. He didn’t remember leaving it like that. Taking a deep breath, preparing himself for a fight, Crowley burst in the door, expecting an intruder. And there was an intruder. Only it was Aziraphale, standing in Crowley’s kitchen, eating cereal out of the box. 

“My, you look like you’re in a hurry.” Aziraphale said, munching quietly. “Have I interrupted something?”

Crowley smirked, removing his coat and placing it back in its usual spot. “Not quite. I was going for a walk. Couldn’t sleep.”

“Lovely night for it.”

“Yeah. Listen, I was actually looking for you. Do you have a moment?”

“I have a lot of moments.” Aziraphale put down the box. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, necessarily, though I suppose that’ll be determined by how you respond to what I’m about to say.” Crowley looked Aziraphale dead in the eye and said, “I’m in love with you.”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yes, angel.” It felt like such a relief to get it off of his chest. “I’m in love with you. I’ve only just realized it, but I am. And I needed to tell you immediately.” Fear blossomed within him. What Aziraphale said now would determine the fate of their relationship for the next millennia. 

“Thank G– whoever. I’ve been waiting for you to realize it for years.” Aziraphale put his hands to Crowley’s chest, grabbing the lapels of his pajamas. He pulled Crowley into a kiss that surprised him at first, simply by the sheer speed, but which he soon got accustomed to and returned the favor. At some point during their embrace, Aziraphale reached up and removed Crowley’s sunglasses, allowing for a better range of motion. 

“I love you, angel.” Crowley muttered, breathless, as he pressed his forehead against Aziraphale’s. 

“And I love you, my dear.”

**Author's Note:**

> They are two very ancient nerds in love


End file.
